


Healed

by Linksdomain



Series: Back to Life [2]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hateno Village, Mipha's Grace - Mentioned (Legend of Zelda), Wild spills the beans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linksdomain/pseuds/Linksdomain
Summary: After Wild is killed by guardians and then brought back to life by Mipha, the rest of his group wants some answers about how exactly that happened.
Relationships: Link/Mipha - Mentioned (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Back to Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698610
Comments: 53
Kudos: 643





	Healed

Wild wakes to a gentle sway. He blinks and puts a hand out to steady himself from whatever is rocking him, and it comes down on something soft. Fur. Opening his eyes, he realizes that he's being carried by Twilight. The rest of the group is surrounding the two as they walk along the path. Cool night air fills his lungs.

"Cub? Wild, are you awake?"

At the sound of Twi's voice, everybody halts. Wild grimaces but nods. Why is he being carried? Did he fall asleep? He motions to the ground, but Twilight doesn't seem to be in any hurry to put him down. Wild squints at him. Upon closer inspection, he seems off; his face is slightly blotchy and red, as if he's been . . . crying? Why would he be crying? Twilight doesn't cry. Wild racks his brain for an explanation. They were transported to his Hyrule, walking to Hateno Village, and then . . .

Oh. Right.

He inhales deeply, the memory of the battle washing over him. They were overtaken by a group of guardians, and he'd been shot. Killed. He's only alive now because Mipha healed him. He's glad he's in Twilight's arms, suddenly, because he's not sure he would be able to stand right at this moment.

"He _is_ awake! Are you okay Wild? Can you stand?" Wind's voice startles him out of his memories. Wild nods, trying to find his voice and shake off the way the world's spinning around him.

"I'm fine. Twi, I can walk, put me down." His request is met with a concerned look covered by a grimace but then is placed gingerly on his feet. Twilight pretends not to notice when Wild grips his pelt for support. Now that he's on the ground, his hair is falling in his face, no longer restrained by a hair tie, and he looks at the blood-coated strands. One of his sideburns is several inches shorter than it was in the morning, reminding him of how short it was when he first awoke from his hundred-year slumber. It must have been burnt or blown off from the guardian's blast, along with his hair tie. Well, that's not great.

Before any of the others can see his discomfort, he finds something else to think about. Apart from his impromptu haircut, he feels fine. A little weak, but fine. It's minorly confusing to him; Mipha's Grace usually leaves him energized and rejuvenated in every way. He wonders if his struggle to stay in the spirit realm with her drained his body, being without his soul for so long. If that's even how it works--he doesn't know. At the moment, all he really wants to do is get home and sleep. Maybe make some dinner for the group, as the darkening sky tells him it's late evening. He frowns.

"How long was I out for?"

Time answers. "A couple of hours. We've been walking for about one and a half of them."

Wild briefly wonders what they were doing for the rest of the time he was out, but it doesn't really matter. He'd prefer to get to their destination with as few interruptions as possible, and judging from the way everybody in the group is dragging their feet as they walk, they would too. He opens his slate to the map.

"We've only got another forty-five minutes or so left," Wild says, placing the slate back on his hip. He forgot that to them, that's still a long time to be walking, but is quickly reminded by Wind's groan. The others, although not as vocal about their disappointment, agree with the youngest member of the group. He looks at him; the poor kid looks dead on his feet. Sympathy and guilt pull at Wild's heart. It's his fault that they're still here, after all. If he'd only been more vigilant, been faster at killing the guardians, hadn't let himself die again, they would all be fast asleep and safe in the village.

If he had the strength, Wild would offer to carry him, but it's probably better that he doesn't. The teenager's pride would probably cause him to find the offer offensive rather than kind. He hates being babied, he says. Wild understands, but for different reasons. He wants to appear competent and strong; he's failed enough as it is, and he doesn't need to have another moment in which anybody could judge him for not working hard enough or fighting well enough, so he walks on his own. Even if he did want to be back in Twi's arms right now (which he totally doesn't).

Rubbing his left arm, Wild thinks of Mipha. He selfishly wishes she had been the one to heal him when he died rather than being put in the shrine. Maybe he wouldn't be so covered in scars, the constant reminders of his epic failure and shortcomings. He wishes she could heal them now. Alas, even as skilled as a healer as she is, the hundred-year-old wounds that the shrine left behind are too far gone to fix. So they remain, a burden written across his skin in red that he must carry with him everywhere he goes. Strangers stare, their gazes burning into him full of fear or pity, usually staying until he helps them with whatever task they ask of him. Even then, some still avoid him. Few apart from those in Hateno and Kakariko know that he's the chosen hero, Hyrule's champion, and he prefers it that way. He doesn't need the attention. The only people he truly feels comfortable in his scars with are the eight he travels with. Truth be told, he doesn't mind them at all around them. Even when they saw the extent to which he'd been burnt, there was no judgement in their eyes. Only wonder and acceptance.

As they continue along the path, Wild notices that the others still stay in a circle around him. A protective barrier, he realizes. A small smile graces his lips. Mipha isn't the only one who will protect him; his family will do anything for him, too. They aren't judging him for what happened.

The walk is mostly silent, filled only by the occasional cough or the sound of insects buzzing around them. The silence is heavy and unnatural. Typically, their hikes are jovial and loud in areas like this. Wild lets himself believe that they're keeping quiet because they're too tired to keep a conversation going. Judging by their alertness and constant glances his way, however, that's nothing more than a delusion. He breaks the muteness when he recognizes their surroundings again.

"Careful, there's a camp of bokoblins and moblins to the right. If we're quiet, they probably won't notice us, but be on your guard." He almost laughs at his supposed need to tell them to be quiet, but they all nod and he sees their hands drift to their weapons. As he thought, however, the monsters are asleep, and the group's presence is missed. Twilight gives an audible sigh of relief, which is a little weird, but he lets it go as he leads the group up the incline on the left.

Hyrule jumps as a shout fills the silence: "Help! Please, somebody!"

Everybody readies their weapons, but Wild just heaves a sigh and looks into the woods the shouting is coming from. "There are a lot of silver bokoblins here. Be careful." Time nods seriously as Wild draws his bow and knocks an arrow into place. A shink resonates through the air as the group unsheathes their swords in unison. There is an air of deadly force within the crew that doesn't usually accompany simpler monsters like this. Wild, as he expected, finds the people--two young women--screaming in the middle of the woods. They're fighting back, but are drastically unprepared for such a pack of bokoblins.

The fight against them is very short with nine people. The women watch in awe as Wild and the other Links clear the area of all the offending creatures with ease. He doesn't even get many hits in--every time one of them approaches him, Twilight steps in and cuts it down where it stands. 

By the time the forest is clear, the two women run up to Wild.

"Ugh, thanks, I thought I was a goner that time! Honestly, I told Nat that it was too dangerous to go truffle hunting tonight!" Meghyn tells him. 

"You always say that! How was I supposed to know they'd be back today? They've been gone for like, a month!" Nat shoots back. She turns to Wild. "We had it under control, by the way. I brought a sword this time--Meg was just scared."

Time balks in disbelief, clearly about to say that Meg's fear was for good reason, but Wild just sighs and holds a hand up. He taps his Sheikah Slate a couple of times before producing three hearty truffles and handing them to the women. He's found countless throughout his travels, and the sisters would be disappointed going home with nothing to show for their efforts but cuts and bruises. They give him a grateful thank you before running off. Legend looks at him weirdly.

"Uh, what was that about? You know them?"

Wild looks up. "Yeah, they're always getting themselves into trouble here looking for hearty truffles. I can't tell you how many times I've had to save them from those bokoblins. You'd think they'd go somewhere else, or at least get some decent weapons, but . . . " He rolls his eyes. "They just don't learn."

"'How many times' . . . you come here a lot?" Warriors asks him. The others nod in a silent addition to his question. Wild gives an affirmative hum before leading them back to the path they were on. 

"Come on, we're just about at the gate."

Legend, to his surprise, groans. "I forgot that I spent all my rupees in the last Hyrule. Does anybody else have enough to pay for the inn?" 

Wild furrows his eyebrows. Why would they need an inn? After a moment, understanding dawns on him. He's never actually told them that he owns a house. A small laugh escapes his lips. "You won't need to worry about that."

He receives only a look of confusion before everybody whoops with joy as they arrive at the town's gate. Thadd looks alarmed to see nine heavily armed men entering the village and responds by readying his pitchfork their way. Time's eye narrows, but before either person can say anything, Wild strides forward and says, "They're with me." Thadd's eyes widen an almost comical amount before he swallows and steps aside to let everybody in. It takes him another moment to lower his pitchfork. Considering the group's mass weaponry and armour, Wild can't blame him. He's honestly got to commend Thadd for having the guts to stick a pitchfork in Time's face. Legend looks confusedly at Wild again after Thadd lets them through but says nothing.

Finally in the town, Wild takes a deep breath. The slightly industrial smell given by the paint shop and Purah's lab is familiar and comforting. He leads the group up and to the left, confidently walking across the bridge leading to his house without a second thought. His companions, however, are a little more reserved to step foot on it.

"Um, Wild, are you sure this is safe?" Wind asks tentatively. "I mean, can it hold all of us?"

Wild snorts. "I've ridden the biggest horse you've ever seen on this thing at full speed and didn't have a problem. The Bolson crew came across it with their sledgehammers before I bought the house. The bridge is fine."

Sky nods and then whips his head back up to Wild. "Wait, 'bought the house'? This is your house? You own a house?"

Wild only smirks and nods. Reservations forgotten, everybody steps onto the bridge, the house ahead seen in a new light. There are murmurs of _I didn't know he has a house!_ and _I wonder what he keeps inside_. Mostly, they just seem grateful that they're getting a free place to crash for the night.

As they get off the bridge, Wild turns to face them.

"Now, uh, please don't touch anything hanging up, okay? There's a lot of stuff that could, um, fall down, or . . . " He trails off uncertainly. Twilight puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll keep our hands to ourselves, right, guys?" The rest of the group gives him an affirmative, and with that, Wild opens the door and steps inside. 

Beside him, Four's jaw drops when he sees the weapons on the wall. All of Wild's most prized weapons that he's won and received are here. Front and center is the Lightscale Trident, elegant and deadly. He wonders if Four would be able to replicate something so graceful. Judging from the open-mouthed stares, the others are shocked by it as well. They clearly didn't expect his living room to be adorned with so many lethal weapons. Before any of them can say anything, Wild asks Hyrule and Sky to move the table to make room for everybody's bedrolls. 

"I only have one bed," He says. "And it's only big enough for two people at most, so--"

"Can I sleep in it with you?" Wind blurts out. Wild starts. He and Wind are close, sure, but no more than he is with the rest of the group. Twilight shakes his head.

"No, I think I should, you know Wild has nightmares," He justifies. It's true; Wild does have them often, waking up in a cold sweat with the whisper of a memory in his mind. It's an odd thing for Twi to bring up, though. They're in close quarters here anyway, and he hasn't even had a nightmare for at least two weeks now. He looks at Twilight suspiciously.

Wind shakes his own head, saying that he can help Wild out of a nightmare perfectly fine, and that Twilight gets to be with him every night. He asks if they can all just sleep in it together.

"My bed is small, sailor, we can't fit three people in it," Wild tells him. His head is starting to hurt from the arguing. To his surprise, Wind looks genuinely upset.

"Please, we can sleep on the floor, I don't care. I just want to be with you tonight," He says sadly. Wild furrows his eyebrows. When did Wind start wanting to spend the night with him, of all people? 

"Yeah, okay," He says. "I like sleeping on the floor better these days anyway. Wind, why don't you take our bedrolls upstairs anyway? There's enough room up there for the three of us. The old man can take my bed." The part about his preference to the floor is true; being in a bed seems unfitting to him, somehow. Too soft, too sophisticated for him, a boy whose entire purpose in life was to destroy the ancient evil plaguing the land. After so long living among the trees and tundra, a bed just feels wrong. Wind nods emphatically, grabbing the bedrolls and taking them to the loft. 

As Wind sets up a mini-camp upstairs, the others begin unpacking as well. The heavy silence returns, the only sound being that of bedding being unrolled and his companions changing into their nightclothes. Suddenly, Wild is uncomfortable here, in his house. It's too confining with so many people and the weight of their unsaid words. Sky, for his part, seems to notice his discomfort. He crosses his legs where he's sitting and asks, "So, where did you get all these weapons from?" The others nod--they were wondering the same thing. Wild follows his gaze to the Lightscale Trident and swallows.

"That one is from Zora's Domain. It--" He pauses, seeing everybody's faces pale and turn away. "What's wrong?"

Before anybody can answer, Wind comes down the stairs, something large and rectangular in his hands. Wild's heart drops when he realizes what it is. He wants to reprimand him for taking it off the wall after being told to keep his hands to himself, but it's too late for that to change anything. Rather, he burrows his face into his hands as Wind places it gingerly on the ground where everybody's set up their things. Several beats of silence ensue as the group looks at the photograph of Wild, Zelda, and the champions. Of Mipha.

"This is the girl that saved you, isn't she?" Wind asks bluntly as he points at Mipha. "Who is she? How did she do it?"

Wild's breath hitches. They saw her? Again, nobody says anything for a long moment. Wild's words are tied on his tongue, and he can't get them to come out. All that escapes him is a small choking noise. Then, Twilight speaks, voice full of an emotion Wild can't place.

"What. The--" He glances at Wind-- " _Heck_ was that earlier, Wild? You _died._ You died in my arms. I felt you stop breathing, you _died!_ "

All at once, the others explode into similar observations.

"You were freaking blown to bits!"

"I could hear your flesh sizzling! How are you fine now?"

"By Hylia, you're not even limping!"

All the voices speaking at once make his head hurt. He didn't know this was such a big deal; they've died before, too, resuscitated by fairies, and had wounds heal with potions. Everybody has been on the brink of death at least once during their journeys so far. He isn't sure what the difference to them is. Judging by the expectant--and, on Twilight and Time's part, slightly terrifying--expressions on everybody's faces, there's a big difference. Twilight's voice cracks when he speaks again.

"I . . . What happened, Wild? Who was that? You were dead, you stopped breathing, and then you caught on fire, and some Zora ghost or something appeared, and then you were alive." At his words, Wild lowers his head. He didn't know what it was like from an outsider perspective, being dead in the moment and all. Truth be told, he isn't sure if he's ready for everybody to know about her. It's too personal, too much. He chooses his words carefully.

"Her name is Mipha. She is--she was--a Zora princess. A healer, the best healer you could imagine. One of the champions alongside me and Zelda. When she was killed by Waterblight Ganon," he chokes out, "Her soul was trapped in Vah Ruta, her divine beast. When I finally woke up after a hundred years, I killed the monster inside and freed her soul. She gifted me with her Grace. Any time I pushed it too far, or got too injured to keep going, I . . . she would heal me. Every time. I thought that she left after I killed Ganon."

The silence, if possible, is even more oppressive now as they process the information. It's rare for Wild to talk about anything prior to his meeting of the other Links. 

"So, you have a ghost that follows you everywhere?" Legend says. "That's kinda creepy, isn't it?" 

Wild frowns. It's not creepy at all. It's sad, and it's heartbreaking, and it's passionate, to him. She chose him over everything else, over peace in the next life. There's nothing creepy about having somebody who loves you so much that they transcend time and death to keep you safe. The others also seem to think that the comment was out of place, but don't dispute it. They were probably all thinking the same thing. 

"So she can bring you back to life when you die?" Time asks, glaring at Legend. Wild is sure that it isn't so simple, but considering he doesn't really understand either, he just nods.

Twilight holds his head in his hands. "That doesn't make _sense_ ," He stresses. "Why does she do it? You said you thought she left after you killed Ganon, why would she stay?"

"Yeah, I don't get it," Warriors states. "How did she 'give it to you' after dying? How does that work?"

Wild groans. His hope that the abridged version would be enough for everybody was obviously stupid. Of course, they want the full story. His secrets are too much for them right now. He takes several breaths to steady himself. "I'll . . . have to start from the top," He says softly. "There's a lot to explain."

With eight pairs of eyes on him, Wild begins the recounting of his adventures. He explains the four Divine Beasts the Sheikah created and Zelda's mission to recruit four champions to pilot them. Everybody holds their breath, listening intently as Wild tells them of the precious memories he has of his past. He first speaks of Daruk, his friend and brother. A goron with unmatched strength, able to withstand any blow with a power he called _Daruk's protection_. His power was rivalled by Urbosa, of course, with her ability to control lighting and send its wrath to anybody foolish enough to cross her path. He tells them as much, leaving out the part where she had to use it to protect Zelda because he wasn't able to find her fast enough when she ran away. He doesn't need more evidence of his failures. He then tells the group of Revali, who shared Zelda's unflattering opinion of him, but whose archery skills were unparalleled. His gale was a feat of raw perseverance, commitment, and power that only he was ever able to create. That is, until his death. All of their deaths. Wild spits out their deaths like a dirty word--they should not have died. Ganon's detestable creations were the only things that could have killed them, he thinks. But he carries on, explaining how after he was resurrected, he freed their souls from the beasts, and they gifted him with their powers, something he was able to harness until they passed on.

Everybody waits. He hasn't mentioned Mipha yet, and he wishes he didn't have to. But he does, so he will.

"I knew Mipha before I was appointed as Zelda's night," He says softly. "My mother died when I was young, and my father took me to Zora's domain often as a child when he wasn't able to take care of me during his duties." Another person, a small face he doesn't know, pulls at his memories, but he ignores it. "Mipha wasn't supposed to get close to me, of course, being a princess and all. But my constant recklessness and resulting injuries kind of made it happen--I think I had a new injury every day. She would always take the time to heal me, much to Muzu's chagrin. She said she would be a terrible princess if she didn't use the gifts she was given at birth to help people, and even he couldn't disagree with that. I think he just hated that I was Hylian more than anything.

"As I got older, I spent more time with her apart from getting healed. By the time I was sixteen . . . " His breath hitches. "We'd fallen in love."

Sky's jaw drops. The others are equally shocked. For him to remember such a thing--for it even to have happened in the first place--is something they'd never imagined, he's sure. He's always been uncomfortable around the topic of romance. This is why. He doesn't tell them that at seventeen, before his final battle, they were engaged. He couldn't do it if he tried, and he doesn't especially feel like breaking down into tears right now. So he carries on with his minorly edited story.

"She was asked to be Vah Ruta's pilot when it was uncovered. Of course, she said yes. We spent a lot of time up there during the rare moments I was away from Zelda. She loved it like it was a living being. I think all the champions did with their beasts, really. I don't understand it, but that doesn't matter. They did, and their connection to them helped me kill Ganon." He pauses. He's getting off track. "Mipha was killed too. I couldn't save her; I wasn't even there. I was on my way to the castle, but of course I didn't even make it there. But whatever, that's unrelated right now." He points to the place her trident is resting on the wall. "They say that her soul was in there, that when they found it after she was killed, her voice came from it. Told them not to mourn her. I don't know if there's truth to it, but if there is, they didn't listen. When I first arrived after a hundred years, they were still bitter and full of hurt over her death.

"'Waterblight Ganon', her killer was called. I slaughtered him when I took back control of Vah Ruta, and it almost cost me my life. But then . . . Mipha appeared. She was nothing more than a spirit, and I didn't really remember her. But she remembered me. Even though she was just a spirit, she healed me. She stayed with me like none of the others did. She calls it her Grace. Every time I'm too far gone to possibly continue, she appears, and she heals me. Back to perfect health. Even now, after I killed Ganon. The others are gone, they let themselves pass on to the next life now that I don't need their help saving Hyrule anymore. But Mipha stayed. She stayed because she loves me." He whips his head to Twilight, eyes burning with unshed tears. "She stayed because she loves me more than she wants peace."

Twilight stares as the tears fall over Wild's cheeks. He wonders if he's said too much, been too vulnerable and open about his past. Before he can overthink it, Twilight pulls him into a hug. 

"Oh, cub," He murmurs. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. He understands now. They all do. The group looks at the photograph again. It's the only light-hearted thing in the room, capturing the champions being smushed together into a hug with Daruk's enormous hands. Wild look so different. Not for the first time, he wonders if it was ever really him. His hair is so short, and his skin is untainted with ragged scars. The others are undoubtedly noticing the difference as well, and he almost wants to hide the picture. For whatever reason, them seeing him as Link and not Wild is discomforting to him. Sky, again, notices. He stands up and faces Mipha's trident. He knows about a soul being inside a weapon.

"Thank you, Mipha," He murmurs, bowing toward it.

The others all lower their heads as well, their gratefulness passing from their lips for saving Wild. Wild's heart swells, and for a moment, he can almost feel a presence beside him. He can almost hear her voice again among the thanks.

_It was my pleasure._

Wind is the only one who hasn't said a word. To Wild's surprise, he's taking gulping breaths, tears streaming down his face. He barrels into Wild's arms, shaking as his tears stain Wild's tunic. He cries out a thank-you to Mipha as Wild holds him tight.

"You saved me, Wild," He sobs. "You saved me, and it killed you. If Mipha weren't there, you'd still be dead, and it would be my fault!"

Wild feels a chill run down his back and pulls Wind out of his arms, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Don't say that. It wasn't your fault. I made my choice, and I don't regret it. I would do it again. For you, for Twi, for Legend, any of you. I've had more than my share of lives granted to me. I would gladly give mine for yours, and unfortunately for you, you don't have a say in it. I promise that it would never be your fault, you understand? My choice, my consequences." Wind nods tearfully as he is pulled back into the embrace, and then enveloped in more arms as the group joins in on the hug. 

When they eventually retire to their separate beds, Twilight against his back and Wind pulled to his chest, Wild can't help but feel a sense of peace. Here, among the people he's made his family, he is safe. And if there's ever a time when they aren't, he will do everything in his power to make it so. Amid Wind and Time's soft snoring and the birds singing outside, Wild smiles. He looks back to the picture, now re-placed on the wall. 

"Thank you, Mipha." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading and requesting that I write this!  
> I never would have imagined that anybody would care to read anything I wrote, much less want more of it! All of your wonderful comments and kudos just make me melt from happiness. I hope that this story lived up to your expectations! I tried to give it a bit of substance, but if you thought it moved too slow, you can let me know. I love to get constructive criticism!  
> If anybody has any requests for me, I would love to hear them! I'm not the most creative person ever, so your ideas really help me out :) 
> 
> I also have a Tumblr if anybody is interested! I don't have anything on it yet aside from the stories that are posted here, but if anybody sends me asks or short requests there I might post some drabbles that are too short to be on here. You can find me at "wildsdomain"!


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